“But he was a spy, too?”
Carl shook his head slowly from side to side. “They aren’t certain but they couldn’t take a chance that he was working with her. That’s what I was told.”
Carl started to cry. “He was an American, Vanessa. He might have been completely innocent. He was a captain, just like me.”
“A captain? You told me you were a sergeant.”
“That’s my cover. So is my job at the language school. My whole life is a lie.”
Carl’s head dropped into his hands and he sobbed. Vanessa was appalled by what he’d told her and she could not bring herself to comfort him.
“My father gave you your orders?”
“I’ve worked for him for more than ten years.”
Vanessa looked confused. “The AIDC is involved in the coordination of intelligence data. It doesn’t have agents who do what you do.”
“It does, Van, but only a handful of people know about my Unit.”
Carl explained what he had been doing since he had been recruited by the General. Vanessa grew angrier as he spoke.
“The bastard,” she said when he was done. Her eyes shone. “Do you realize what would happen if we exposed him?”
“Don’t think that way. Your father is a very dangerous man. I have no idea how far he would go if he thought that you were a danger to him.”
“Don’t you want to help me? Don’t you want to stop being his puppet?”
“I want to stop but I don’t want you to die. Your father will kill us if he feels threatened. What you’re thinking of doing isn’t practical, anyway. There is no proof that the Unit exists. General Wingate would deny it and so would everyone else connected to the operation. And if by some chance you were able to get evidence that the Unit exists, you would endanger anyone who knew about it. Killing is considered a method of problem solving to these people-to me. I’m one of them, Van. It’s how we think. If you have a problem and killing will solve the problem, you kill.”
Vanessa was quiet for a few moments. Then she looked at Carl.
“What are you going to do?”
“I want to leave the army. I want some peace.”
“Will my father let you go?”
“I don’t know. But I’ve got to ask.”
Vanessa thought for a moment. “That could be very dangerous, Carl. My father hates weakness. Think of how much you know and how much you could hurt him. Once he knows you want out, you’ll become a problem he has to solve.”
Carl stared at Vanessa with empty eyes. “I don’t care anymore. I have to stop. If he lets me go, I’ll be through with it. If he kills me, I’ll be at peace too.” He laughed. “I guess I’m in a win-win situation.”
5
Carl phoned Vanessa the evening after he had made his confession, and her answering machine took the call. He phoned several other times but Vanessa didn’t pick up. The next day, Carl called Vanessa at work and was told that she was not in. She didn’t show up at her law school class either. Carl wondered if Vanessa’s apartment was bugged. Had the General reviewed a tape of his conversation with Vanessa? Was she dead because of him? Carl drove to the apartment. It was dark. He jimmied the lock and entered. She wasn’t there, and her mailbox was stuffed with mail.
The next night Carl received a call from a polling service. He had never been given an assignment so soon after returning from one, but the call signaled a meet. Five hours after he decoded the message he parked in front of room 105 of a motel on the outskirts of Baltimore. Carl expected to find General Peter Rivera waiting for him, but the room was unoccupied. A vicious snowstorm was pummeling the east coast, and any number of weather-related possibilities could explain his late arrival.
Carl threw his pea jacket and watch cap on the bed and went into the bathroom. He started brewing coffee in the pot provided by the motel. As the coffee perked he wondered what he would do if Rivera had another assignment for him that required him to kill. Before he could sort out his thoughts, the door opened. Carl drew his gun and pressed against the bathroom wall. He could see the front door in the mirror that hung over the sink. A brutal wind blew snowflakes into the motel room. A man who was too tall to be Rivera followed them in. His face was hidden behind the upturned collar of his overcoat.
“Your tax dollars pay for those bullets, Carl,” Morris Wingate said. “Don’t waste them.”
Carl holstered his weapon and stepped into the bedroom carrying two mugs of steaming coffee.
“Cold enough for you?” Carl asked nonchalantly as he handed Wingate one of the mugs.
“Cold enough,” the General said as he stomped the snow from his shoes.
“I’ve been trying to get through to you,” Carl said.
“I’ve been away,” Wingate answered, and Carl knew that this was the only explanation he was going to get. The General sat down in the room’s only easy chair and warmed his hands on the coffee mug. Carl turned the desk chair around and set his mug on the blotter. He forced himself to look Wingate in the eye as he cut to the chase.
“I’ve been thinking about leaving the service.”
“Does this have anything to do with Vanessa?”
Carl was trained to hide his emotions, but his training failed him.
“You are an extremely important person, Carl. We keep track of you.”
Carl felt sick.
The General shook his head sadly. When he spoke he did not sound angry, only hurt and disappointed.
“I wish you’d confided in me before now. You know that you and Vanessa mean a lot to me.”
Carl waited, unsure of just how much Wingate knew.
“Have you told her what you do for a living?” the General asked.
Carl’s mind raced to find the right answer. If Wingate had overheard his confession, a lie could sign a death warrant for him and Vanessa. The same result might follow if Wingate didn’t know what Carl had told his daughter and Carl told Wingate the truth.
“I haven’t told her about the Unit and I don’t plan to,” he lied. “We both know that she wouldn’t approve.”
Wingate nodded. “Why have you decided to abandon your career?” he asked.
Carl looked down at his hands. “I’m losing my edge. I’m burned out.”
“You should take some time to think about this. You’re a shooting star, Carl. You’re going to keep rising if you stay in the service. There are people who are watching you with big things in mind. Will you promise me that you won’t act precipitately?”
Carl wanted out now, tonight, but he didn’t have the strength to say so.
“I’m not jumping into anything,” Carl said.
“Good, because I have important work for you.” Carl was surprised. General Rivera had always briefed him. “When you’re through with this mission, take some R and R and figure out what you want to do with your life. I’ll back your decision one hundred percent, no matter what you decide.”
Wingate opened a briefcase he had been carrying. Inside were cash, false identification, a weapon, and other items that he needed on an assignment. The General handed Carl a slim file. Inside was a photograph of a handsome man with windblown hair standing in front of an office building. He looked familiar, but Carl could not place him.
“Who is this?”
“You don’t need to know that.”
Carl was puzzled. General Rivera had always told him the names of the people who were the subject of an operation.
“That’s unusual, sir.”
“Yes, it is,” Wingate replied as he moved the photograph aside and opened a map.
“Lost Lake is an upscale community of summer homes in northern California.” Wingate pointed at a lot that had been circled in red. “Your subject lives here. You’ll be able to get to the property by boat.” The General handed Carl a slip of paper. “This is the security code. The subject should be alone tonight.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“You’re dealing with a spy for a foreign intell
igence organization. He has in his possession the military records of every member of the Unit, including yours.”
“How…?”
“I’m not at liberty to tell you, but you can imagine what would happen if an unfriendly foreign power knew your identity. I want those papers back. The existence of the Unit is at stake. When you have the papers I want this man eliminated, and I want the method of execution to be graphic and brutal.”
Carl was surprised. A kill was usually carried out as quickly and quietly as possible.
“If I may ask, sir, why do you want the subject terminated in this manner?”
“I’m not going to explain my orders, Carl. Assume that there are good reasons for everything I tell you.” The General stood up. “You’ll fly out immediately. There’s a car waiting at the airport. Bring me the papers. Remember, the existence of the Unit depends on you.”
6
The normal procedure for undertaking a mission involved an extensive briefing and time to prepare, but Carl had flown west with no more information than he’d been given at the motel. He landed at an airstrip in California after dark. A little before two in the morning he anchored his boat just off a shallow beach that was screened from the subject’s house by trees. Carl worked his way through the woods until he could see the back of a modern log cabin. The house was dark. He crossed the lawn quickly, invisible in his dark clothes, camouflage paint, and navy blue watch cap.
Carl jimmied the lock, punched in the security code, and was inside in seconds. He had memorized the layout of the house and knew where to find the stairs to the master bedroom. The man in the king-size bed lay curled on his side slumbering peacefully. His eyes sprang open when Carl slapped a piece of tape across his mouth. Carl stunned him with a blow and bound his hands and ankles. When he was done, Carl showed the man a large hunting knife with a serrated blade. A scalpel was lighter and easier to wield, but he used the big knife to inspire terror.
“I want the army records you stole. Give them to me and I’ll let you live,” he lied. “Hold out and you’ll suffer until you break, and everyone breaks eventually.”
The man’s chest heaved from fear. He was sweating and his muscles were twitching involuntarily.
“I’m going to remove the tape. You will tell me where to look. We’ll go together. If you’ve lied I’ll remove your left eye.”
Carl took the tape away and the man said, “You’re making a mistake…”
Before he could finish, Carl slapped back the tape, ripped away his pajama top and sliced a piece of flesh from the man’s chest. The subject arched back as if struck by an electric charge. His eyes squeezed shut and he threw his body from side to side, trying to ease his pain. Carl usually felt nothing in these situations, but he felt sick this time. He swore that this would be his last mission.
“We’ll try this one more time. I’ll ask you for the location of the papers and you’ll give it to me. That’s all I’m interested in. Remember the pain you just suffered, because that was the least amount of pain you will endure. Every time you fail to obey instructions I will escalate your discomfort. I have all the time in the world. Don’t increase your suffering needlessly. When I remove the tape, tell me where to find the army records.”
“They’re downstairs in my office,” the man gasped when Carl peeled back the tape. Carl hoped the man was telling the truth. He wanted this mission over with. Carl taped the man’s mouth again. He thought they were far enough from the neighbors so a scream would not be heard, but he wasn’t taking chances. He helped the subject to his feet, sliced away the tape that bound his ankles, and supported him as they walked downstairs. The chest wound was bleeding freely and the pain made the man stumble. When they reached the office Carl turned on the lights. Then he secured the subject to a ladder-back chair and removed the tape from his mouth.
“Where are the army records?” he demanded.
The man gave him the combination to a wall safe. Carl knew that he was not lying because the combination was included in the file he’d seen at the motel. He opened the safe and took a sheaf of papers from it. It only took a moment to find his records in the stack.
Carl took out the knife. Wingate wanted this bloody, and he would obey the General’s orders this one last time. He made several quick cuts, working fast so the subject would not suffer too long. He tried to keep his eyes off of the struggling man’s face while he worked. When he felt that the body looked horrible enough he mercifully cut the subject’s throat. His hand trembled when he made the kill and he felt tears welling in his eyes. Then he heard a sound behind him and whirled around, holding the bloody knife in a combat position.
“Carl?”
Vanessa Wingate was standing in the dooray dressed in a long white T-shirt, her hair tousled from sleep. They stared at each other for a moment before Vanessa saw the man in the chair. When she backed away, her eyes never left his. Carl knew that he should grab her, but the horror he saw on her face paralyzed him. Vanessa bolted down the hall and into the night. On any other mission, Carl would have pursued a fleeing witness and silenced her, but the only thing Carl could make his body do was race to his boat. He was running across the lawn when Vanessa screamed.
7
The General’s driver took Carl from the airport to Wingate’s town house in Alexandria, Virginia. Carl was barely holding it together when he was shown into the study. General Wingate was sitting near the fireplace, reading. He stood up when Carl walked in.
“Did you get the records?” he asked anxiously.
“Who did I kill?” Carl answered.
The General studied Carl for a moment.
“Did something happen?”
“Who did I kill?” Carl repeated, more emphatically.
Wingate sighed. “A congressman. You’ll read about it in the paper tomorrow.”
“What was his name?” Carl asked certain that he knew already.
“Eric Glass.”
Carl stared at the General. “You used me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Vanessa was there, you bastard. She was staying at the house.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Then explain the situation to me, General, because I’m confused. For the first time ever you give me an assignment instead of Peter Rivera. And this assignment just happens to involve your daughter and the man she works for. Also for the first time I’m told to murder a man in the most violent way possible. Did you use me to get revenge against Glass for sleeping with your daughter?”
“You’re right about Glass and Vanessa being lovers, but that’s not why Glass had to die. There was one set of records of the men in the Unit. It was in the safe in my den in California. Glass was a sleeper agent. He seduced Vanessa and tricked her into stealing the records. Vanessa stole the records because she hates me. You know that. She wants to destroy me and she thought that Glass would help her do it. But she didn’t know that he was a spy. She thought he’d hold hearings and expose the Unit.”
“Why didn’t you tell me Vanessa would be at Glass’s house?”
“I didn’t know. I would never have sent you if I thought that she would be there. That’s why I didn’t tell you the name of the man you were sent to eliminate. I knew you’d never met Glass, but you knew he was Vanessa’s employer.”
“Why did you send me at all?”
“Because you’re the best I’ve got, and this is the most important assignment I’ve ever given out.”
Carl wandered over to a leather armchair and sat down in front of the fire. He felt the heat on his face as he stared at the flames.
“She saw me. She knows what I did.”
“That’s a problem, but I’m going to deal with it. I’ve received a call from Lost Lake. Vanessa is in shock. She’s in the local hospital. I’m going there as soon as we finish. I wanted to be here for you when you got back because the sheriff told me that Vanessa had identified you.”
“What will I do? I’ll be arr
ested if I go back to Fort Meyer.”
“You’re right about that. The police are looking for you. I’m sure that the FBI will be involved soon. But I have a solution. I’m going to send you someplace where no one will look for you.”
Carl looked up. “Where is that?”
“We’ve received intelligence that American MIAs are being held in a secret jungle prison camp in North Vietnam. I’m sending all the members of the Unit to rescue them.”
The chance to meet the other members of the Unit distracted Carl. “What will happen when I get back?”
“Carl, I love you like a son. I want to protect you. I have a few ideas of how I can do that but I don’t know if they’ll work. If they don’t, you’ll go away. When you come back you’ll be a wealthy man with a new life and a new face. Now, let me have the records.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Did you rescue the MIAs?” Ami asked.
Carl laughed. “The mission was a setup, and I was so naive that I didn’t see it coming.”
“What happened?”
“There were ten of us. I’d seen their pictures when I looked through the records I took from Congressman Glass’s safe, so I knew that everyone was there. Paul Molineaux, who led my first combat mission, was the only man I recognized. He was the team leader this time, too. He showed us pictures of the camp and briefed us. We had to take a boat in-country but Molineaux said that there were copters waiting to take us out. He had pictures of the MIAs. It looked real. We all believed him.”
“But it wasn’t true? There were no MIAs?”
Carl shrugged. “There might have been, but I doubt it. I think the General phonied up some pictures to fire us up. There wasn’t a man in the Unit who wouldn’t have died willingly to bring an MIA home. But we never got the chance to find out if there were MIAs.
“Molineaux stayed on board the boat that took us in-country, which was strange. He gave me command. He said that there were a lot of soldiers in the area because of the prison camp and he had to make sure that the boat, which was our alternative escape route, was protected. We accepted his word blindly. We were so stupid.”
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